


We Can't Stop Now

by Lemon_Candy



Series: I Guess You’re Mine Now [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Bottom!Mark, Daddy Kink, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Light Bondage, M/M, Smut, a bit of spanking, porn with a little plot, slight dom/sub undertones, smut in chapter 2, top!jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 14:12:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15463164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_Candy/pseuds/Lemon_Candy
Summary: Mark doesn't like him. Or does he?One night at a party, Jackson finds out his unrequited attraction to his best friend may not be so unrequited after all. It's amazing what a bit of alcohol can do to people.





	1. Unexpected Advances

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing writing this at 3 AM... Anyway, here's some MarkSon =)
> 
> sorry if there any spelling/grammatical mistakes. Even though I proofreaded, I might have missed some

If you told Jackson that he’d be hopelessly pining after his best friend a couple years ago, Jackson wouldn’t have believed you.

Now, age 21 at some party with his third drink in hand, it has become a reality for him. Jackson runs a hand through his brown hair and tries to find some comfort in the loud music blasting out of the stereo, and he takes a big sip of his vodka for good measure. The liquid burns his throat as it slides down, but Jackson doesn’t mind the feeling. Anything to distract him from a certain lithe body dancing a few meters in front him. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place really. About three hours ago, Jackson had been in his room immersed in a game on his phone, before his roommate came bursting in all of a sudden. “You free?” Mark had asked him as he walked over and plopped himself down onto Jackson's lap.

Although Jackson was completely focused on the game before, he finds his attention quickly waning and shifting someplace else now that his roommate’s body is so close against him. Jackson ignores the heat seeping through the space between them and doesn’t look away from his phone screen. “Yeah I guess,” Jackson replies as casual as possible. “Mind telling me why you need this information?”

Mark laughs, and Jackson pretends his heart didn’t flutter at the sound. “I was with Jennie,” Mark says. The younger can’t help but feel a prickle of jealousy at that, but he forces his expression to remain neutral as Mark continues. “She invited me to go to her party tonight, and I was hoping you’d come along. It’ll be fun.”

 _I’d go anywhere with you_ , Jackson wants to tell him. “Sure. I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Great,” Mark grins. “We’ll be leaving in thirty minutes.” 

And then he’s gone without another word, disappearing into his room to presumably shower and change. Jackson leans back on the couch once the other is out of sight, missing the warmth already. Actually, Jackson really needs to get started on a project for one of his classes, but it appears that he doesn't have it in him to decline Mark’s offer. While Jackson can never resist a good party, he knows what had him agreeing wasn’t the prospect of going to one. It was the fact that Mark asked him to come. 

Jackson wonders when exactly he’d started having these romantic feelings for Mark. They’d known eachother for a large part of their lives, ever since middle school when Jackson had moved to Korea. At that time, he had warmed up to Mark because the lack of a language barrier, and Mark was simply so charming even if he wasn’t aware of it. At that young age, Jackson could’ve had something akin to a crush on the other boy. 

He supposes when it really began was upon entering high school. The two were not only comfortable with speaking to one another now, but also with plenty of physical contact. They were inseparable as friends. _Friends_ , Jackson reminds himself bitterly. The thing was, friends don’t stare at eachother’s lips for way too long, friends don’t get jealous every time one of them gets into a relationship, and friends don’t want to know how the other looks without clothes on. Jackson told himself that the urges were just a result of teenage hormones being all over the place, but as the years drag on, the more he becomes unsure of himself. 

It had come to a point that Jackson would wake up some mornings sweating profusely with a wet stain over his boxers as a dream of Mark pressed into the sheets and gasping out his name lingers in his mind. Jackson was forced to come to a realization then: (1) He was sexually attracted to Mark, (2) He might be a little in love with his best friend, and (3) Mark does not love him back.

Well, Jackson doesn’t know the last one for certain, per se, but it seems to be quite likely so far. All this time Jackson has known him, Mark had never dated another guy or stated in any way that he was attracted to them. Maybe Mark was a little touchier with Jackson than most people, and maybe Mark’s girlfriends don’t stay for long because he apparently talks too much about Jackson, but that doesn’t mean he’s interested.

Once, Jackson had voiced out these thoughts of Mark to his friend Bambam, only for the other tell him, “I honestly thought he was your boyfriend,” and Jackson hadn't known what to say to that. He received similar responses from other friends when he’d told them as well. It left Jackson wondering, if he was as obvious as everyone deemed, why wasn’t Mark getting the message? If Jackson wore his heart on his sleeve, why doesn’t Mark say something about it?

Suddenly a cheer, followed by several hoots and catcalls, brings Jackson out of his musing and back to the party that was currently in full swing. Jackson’s mouth runs dry when he glances over to the center of the room, where a familiar figure is moving suggestively to the beat. The song had changed to a more sensual tune, slower and more languid than before, and Jackson is having a hard time breathing the longer his gaze is on Mark. Mark, who has his cloudy eyes half-lidded, rolling his body in an awfully risqué manner, hands planted on the floor and hips thrusting in the air. 

Jackson would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a spark of arousal run through him at the sight. He clutches the drink in his hand impossibly tighter, hearing the plastic cup crinkle under the force and nearly spilling vodka over his shoes, when Mark makes eye contact with him through the crowd. Jackson can tell his friend is drunk from the dazed smile that he sends his way and his subtle (but enough for Jackson to notice) clumsiness. That should've been a sign to grab Mark and get him back into the dorm where he could sleep it off, but Jackson is frozen on the spot, completely entranced by the way Mark is dancing.

Perhaps a bit tipsy himself, Jackson sets his drink down and makes his way over to where Mark is after a few seconds of watching. He’s tired of watching from the sidelines when he could be right next to his roommate. Before his mind can fully register what he’s doing, Jackson is coming up behind Mark and ghosting his hands over the hem of his roommate’s jeans. The familiar warmth that floods their systems is instantaneous with the close proximity, and Jackson can’t help but feel pleased at the shaky exhale that leaves Mark when he firmly grabs onto Mark’s slim hips. 

They move rhythmically together like that for a while, Jackson’s hands resting on Mark’s hips as Mark nearly grinds back onto him while the crowd cheers them on. It’s exhilarating, but in the back of his mind, Jackson knows they’re doing what they are on the account of that they’re both horribly drunk. 

He doesn’t have the time to feel disappointed though, because Mark is suddenly backing him into a couch and pushing him until he’s sitting. Then, the older boy climbs on top and places his knees on either side of Jackson without a hint of hesitation in his actions.

“Mark,” Jackson starts, a bit unsure. “What are you doing?”

Mark doesn’t say anything, instead his smile turns borderline devilish and Jackson knows he’s in trouble now. Before he can utter another word, or maybe push his friend off like he should have, Mark is rolling his hips down onto Jackson’s and eliciting a surprised groan from the younger. Mark doesn’t pause in his movements, seeming to be enjoying himself as much as Jackson.

Nobody seems to be watching them anymore, most likely because the crowd’s attention has moved to another duo that had taken the center of the room––was that Bambam and Yugyeom? Jackson can't tell in the dim lighting––or finding other party goers to dance with themselves. Jackson is left feeling all too aware of Mark’s presence above him. He briefly notices that his friend is drunker than usual.

“Are you having fun?” Mark asks breathlessly after a bit more grinding, as if he didn’t already know the exact answer. Their faces are mere centimeters apart now, too close for platonic friends to be. Hell, everything about the situation was too sensual to be classified as platonic anymore, but that’s only a distant thought as Jackson nods his head in reply.

“We’re so fucking wasted,” He says, and that same fluttery feeling is back when Mark laughs in that unabashed way of his. Jackson laughs a bit himself as well, the alcohol in his bloodstream easing out any tension he may have felt before. It makes him bolder too, because soon enough Jackson is lifting Mark up by the thighs and rising. “I know we’re having fun already, but I think we can do better,” He murmurs, causing the boy in his arms to squirm in anticipation.

“What did you have in mind?” Mark breathes, long legs coming to wrap around Jackson’s waist as the other makes his way down the hall. Jackson just hums and enters the nearest room he finds that isn’t locked or occupied, and shuts the wooden door behind them once they’re in. Then, he’s pushing the older up against said door and trailing his lips along the smooth expanse of Mark’s neck. “Gonna fuck you so good tonight, is that okay with you baby?” Jackson all but growls seductively right into Mark’s ear.

The older boy shudders, eyes fluttering closed as Jackson proceeds to lick the area where his neck meets his ear and slide a hand underneath his shirt. At this point, Mark wouldn’t have said no even if he was sober. “It’s more than okay,” he replies, and his pupils are darkened with lust when he opens his eyes to look at the other. 

That’s all that Jackson needs to hear. Without another word, he captures Mark’s lips in a searing kiss and moves them towards the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut next chapter >>
> 
> Comments and suggestions appreciated as always! :)


	2. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the smut
> 
> p.s. apologies if there are grammar/spelling mistakes. It was pretty late when I was working on this, but I wanted the chapter out as soon as possible b/c I've been a huge procrastinator x(

Jackson leans forward to capture Mark’s soft lips in a searing kiss as they inch towards the bed. The other boy returns it with the same amount of fervor, panting heavily into Jackson’s mouth when he slips his tongue inside insistently. The kiss is nothing short of rough or messy, just the way Mark likes it, and their bodies pressed so intimately against one another feels _right_.

Jackson’s scent, combined with the drunken haze clouding his mind, is starting to overwhelm Mark. Unbeknownst to the younger boy, this was a situation he’d often imagined alone in the confines of his bedroom.

They finally make it to the bed after exchanging some more open-mouthed kisses and impatient touches that set Mark’s skin on fire wherever they land. As soon as his back hits the mattress, Jackson is hovering above him and making quick work of his sweater. Mark follows suit and shucks off his own shirt, eager to feel the other’s heat on him. They’re a complete mess of limbs, but somehow the two also manage to undo their pants and kick them off without much of a hassle.

Once they’re both devoid of clothes except underwear, Mark wastes no time in roaming his hands all over Jackson. If Mark wasn’t so intoxicated at that moment, he might have took more time to admire Jackson’s perfectly sculpted abs, maybe run his tongue along the exposed flesh. But because he was unfortunately, the epitome of trashed, Mark allows the other boy to take the lead and grab his thighs, hoisting him closer. He moans when Jackson rolls his hips forward and grinds their clothed erections together, deciding to resume their impromptu session from earlier on the couch.

“So needy for me,” Jackson rasps, voice filled with lust and desire. “Tell me what you want.” He moves his hips vigorously, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through their bodies. But it’s nowhere near enough yet.

“Touch me please,” Mark says, cheeks flushed red and breath strained, pulling Jackson in for another kiss by the hair. His back arches off the bed when Jackson does exactly that (“Since you asked so nicely, baby.”), hand trailing beneath the waistband of his briefs to rub and squeeze him in all the right places. By now he’s so wet with copious amounts of precum, the friction is only blindingly pleasurable. It has Mark rutting into the younger’s hand, small moans escaping his throat at every deft slide of Jackson’s fingers along his shaft. Mark feels the heat coil in the pit of his stomach sooner than he would’ve liked.

However, as if Jackson could sense Mark’s oncoming orgasm, he quickly retracts his hand before Mark can reach his climax, causing the other to cry out in a mix of shock and pure frustration. Mark lets out an annoyed whine. He was so close, _so close_ , and yet Jackson had stopped. Mark reaches for himself in a desperate attempt to get off, but Jackson is having none of that. 

“You’ll be coming with me inside you,” Jackson promises huskily, slapping Mark’s wrist away. Mark shivers at the other’s commanding tone, but he’s biting his lip in anticipation nonetheless. What he doesn’t expect is for Jackson to lean over the side of the bed and blindly search for something on the floor. He returns with a long, flat object grasped in his hand, and Mark catches the silver gleam of metal in the darkness. He realizes Jackson is holding one of the belts they discarded.

Mark doesn't get the chance to ask any questions though, because Jackson is back on him not a second later, pinning his wrists above his head and pressing another wet kiss to his mouth which he readily accepts. He barely notices the slide of leather on his skin as Jackson binds his hands with the belt firmly. 

“Why are my hands being tied?” Mark asks once he catches his breath, slightly wriggling in Jackson’s grip. His glassy eyes are staring at the accessory binding his hands in curiosity, but he doesn’t try to resist. Oddly enough, instead of the restraints causing some form of discomfort in Mark like they should have, they only add fuel to the flames burning in his gut. 

“So you aren’t tempted to touch yourself again,” Jackson says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Trust me,” and that’s all it takes for Mark to give in.

Mark’s erection twitches as Jackson gives the belt one final tug, making sure it’s secure enough to stay but not enough to hurt. Not too much at least, because Mark can already feel the chafed edges of leather digging into the delicate flesh of his inner wrists. Though, he couldn’t care less at that moment. Not when Jackson is eyeing him up and down so intently, not when being put in such a vulnerable position increases his arousal tenfold.

After Jackson is satisfied with his work, he dives down between Mark’s legs so he’s face level with the other’s achingly hard cock. Mark jolts in surprise when Jackson licks through the fabric of his underwear, running his tongue over the head while his hands hold Mark’s legs apart. The boy below him shudders in ecstasy and squeezes his eyes shut, letting the euphoric sensation wash over him at each drag of Jackson’s tongue against his sensitive member.

Next, Jackson is pulling off Mark’s briefs in one swift tug. He starts mouthing directly onto Mark’s cock, and Mark just about passes out right then and there. “A-Ah, feels good, Jackson,” he sobs out, hips arching high off the bed. Jackson only hums around his cock in response, quickening his pace until a familiar warmth is building up in Mark’s lower half again. 

All of a sudden, Mark feels a moistened finger prod at his entrance. The digit slips in with ease, eliciting a sharp gasp from Mark, but it only begins to sting after two, then three fingers are added into him. Jackson sets a ruthless pace from the start, stretching and twisting against Mark’s tight walls.

Mark can’t help the tears that rush to his eyes from the roughness, yet he still wants–– _needs_ ––more of Jackson. He needs Jackson so bad, and he needs him now. “Fuck, come on, I’m ready,” He tells him after a few more seconds of preparation, voice thick with lust. “Just fuck me already,” Mark groans impatiently.

Without warning, a hand smacks his ass, the sound resonating loudly through the air. Mark whimpers at the pain that spreads along his backside at the harsh slap. “Is that any way to ask for something?” Jackson reprimands, eyes glinting dangerously. Mark shakes his head, shrinking a little at the other’s intense gaze.

“No,” he says quickly.

Another slap. “Try again.”

“No… please, d-daddy.”

Despite his slight stutter, Mark revels in the way surprise briefly flashes across Jackson’s face. Jackson had been caught off guard, clearly not expecting Mark to call him that. He can’t say that he’s disappointed though, quite the opposite in fact, and he’s hastily tearing a condom out of its packet and rolling it on after he gets over the initial shock. “Good boy,” Jackson growls as lines himself up and pushes in to the hilt.

The sound Mark lets out is nothing short of a scream, crying out from the combination of pain and pleasure that takes over his entire being at the abrupt entry. Jackson barely gives him time to adjust before he starts thrusting into him mercilessly. Mark feels so full, filled to the brim with Jackson and only Jackson, and tears are actually trickling down his face from how good it is. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re taking me so well,” Jackson breathes against his ear, and the words have Mark outright melting. Mark can’t deny that he has a certain thing for being praised, and maybe Jackson calling him pet names, too. He reminds himself to look into it more later.

Meanwhile, Jackson couldn’t believe that he wasn’t dreaming. How many times had he fantasized of this exact scenario in his head? How many times had he gotten off to the thought of Mark coming undone because of him? He’d lost count. So understandably, Jackson is a little apprehensive that Mark panting below him, face painted crimson and bleary eyes gazing back at him, is all a figment of his imagination.

But the heat is _real_ , the feeling of Mark bracketing his legs around Jackson to keep him close is _real_ , and the quiet ‘I love you’s’ spilling out of Mark’s full lips are _real_. Jackson says the words back effortlessly, his face buried in the crook of Mark’s shoulder, and he means them. He’s wanted to say them ever since they were in middle school, when they were so young and painfully unaware. 

“Wanna ride you, daddy,” Mark gasps, and Jackson is all too happy to comply. He pulls out and flips their positions so that Mark ends up on top with legs planted on either side of him and arms around his neck. Then, Mark takes his time sinking back down onto Jackson, the head of the other’s cock catching at his rim, and he bottoms out with a low moan.

Once he properly begins to bounce, the new angle has Jackson hitting his prostate dead on with each upward thrust of his hips. The bursts of newfound pleasure send Mark toppling over the edge in no time.

Mark comes with a broken cry, spurting his release over both their stomachs. Jackson digs his blunt nails into Mark’s hips, continuing to thrust into him erratically, not far behind himself. “I’m close,” He tells Mark, who’s still trying to move his hips for Jackson even though he’s already climaxed.

“Come for me,” Mark says, nipping at his collarbone, and Jackson does.

A moment later, he’s coming hard into the condom, riding out his orgasm as Mark twitches slightly from oversensitivity.

Jackson swiftly unties the belt from Mark's hands once he recovers from his high, and they collapse on the bed in a heap of sweaty limbs, sated and exhausted. They’re quiet for a long time, and their steady breaths are the only thing filling the silence of the room. 

“Did you mean it?” Mark asks carefully after a while. He’s more sober now, the haze shadowing his mind having mostly dissipated.

“Yes. Did you?” Jackson replies, equally as cautious, turning over to face the other boy on the bed. He’s met with a content smile and a hand coming to softly brush his cheek. 

“Ever since I first saw you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, comments/suggestions appreciated :))


	3. You and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Jackson talk about feelings.

Eventually, he and Jackson had emerged from the bedroom after getting redressed. In their hurry, Mark somehow ends up in Jackson’s sweater and Jackson in his shirt. Neither of them care though, too eager to leave the crowds and party behind. Mark doubted that Jennie would be very happy if she found them passed out and naked, both reeking of cheap alcohol and sweat. As he and Jackson weave through the mass of bodies towards the exit, Mark hopes Jennie could forgive him for literally fucking up one of her bedrooms. 

Their ride back home was nondescript, anti-climactic even. They didn’t talk much. Mark could hardly remember the details, except that he’d been bone tired and it was freezing cold while they waited for a cab. On the bright side, their linked hands inside Jackson’s coat pocket made the brisk autumn air a lot more bearable. 

As soon as they make it to the dorm, Mark faceplants directly onto his bed, the soft sheets welcome against his sore muscles. He was just now realizing that _maybe_ he’d drank a little too much and was thankful Jackson had been there to drag him home safely. His entire body felt composed of lead, and the alcohol churned in his stomach uneasily, but it was nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix. Mark was so caught up in his exhaustion that he barely notices Jackson lingering by the bed. 

Now that he thinks about it, his roommate had been rather uncharacteristically silent the past few minutes. Mark hadn’t bothered to comment, guessing drunk Jackson was different from normal Jackson. Surely he couldn’t have felt uncomfortable. Didn’t they confess their love for one another in the midst of some less than appropriate activities an hour ago? That part Mark definitely remembers, among some of the _other things_ that happened. Seriously, Mark had no idea he was this kinky before Jackson.

Yet there the younger was, hovering beside Mark’s bed like an awkward teenager. Mark was too tired for this.

“Well,” he drawls, getting the other’s attention. “Are you going to stand there all night or what?”

That seems to snap Jackson out of whatever trance he was in. He wets his lips, seeming to contemplate what to say next. “Right… I should be heading to my room now,” he settles on.

The answer doesn't satisfy Mark in the least.

Just as Jackson swivels around to leave, Mark catches him by the arm. “Stay,” he whispers. It seems that he said the right thing, because the moment those words are out, Jackson visibly relaxes into his touch. The line of tension in his shoulders ease, and the beginnings carefree grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

In the dimness of the room, Mark feels his heart skip a beat at how attractive Jackson was even then. He looked like an actor in those dramas his mother used to watch, with his messy hair somehow managing to appear handsome, and wearing Mark’s t-shirt that was loose on the older, but fit perfectly on Jackson. How could someone look so flawless after a party _and_ drunken sex? Not that Mark was complaining.

Jackson is, without a doubt, the same person he’d fell in love with years ago, and he was not disappointed. Mark would be down for a round two if his body wasn’t begging at him to sleep.

“Okay,” Jackson says as he gingerly slips into bed alongside his roommate. Some unspoken tension still remains between them, but it could be ignored for now. After all, they have all the time in the world to sort out everything tomorrow, and Mark is too busy enjoying the warmth of Jackson curling up around him.

 

______

 

Mark blinks awake the next morning to sunlight streaming into his window, and he instantly realizes two, very infuriating things. One, he has a god-awful hangover that has him wishing he was never born, and two, Jackson is nowhere to be found. The spot beside him is disappointingly vacant. It holds no trace of warmth, so the other must have left quite a while ago. Mark turns over and groans into his pillow. He felt like shit.

When he finally musters up enough strength to sit up, Mark notices a glass of water and sticky note resting atop the nightstand. He eagerly reaches for the glass and downs the water gratefully, the cool liquid soothing his dry throat and calming the queasiness in his stomach. He places the glass down once he’s finished and reads over the small piece of paper next.

_Went out to buy groceries. We’re out of milk and bread!!_  
_-Jackson_

Mark sags in relief, not knowing why he was anxious in the first place. At least he knows he hadn’t scared the other boy off. If he did, Mark would’ve felt a hundred times worse than he already did from his current headache. He lays back on the bed and stares up at the ceiling distractedly. Memories of the previous night start replaying in his head, and he recalls him and Jackson flush against one another, skin to skin, practically breathing in the same air. Mark feels his face go hot at all the embarrassing things he’d said and done, but he can’t take his mind off a certain part. 

_The bed rocked rhythmically with every fervent snap of their hips, and every so often Mark would make a particularly loud moan that could be heard over the music outside. Jackson and him were panting from exertion, lost in the mind-numbing pleasure and the heat radiating off their bodies. They’re covered in sweat head to toe and moving frantically against one another, as if this was their first and last time to do this. The younger keeps his hand positioned on Mark’s bound wrists, holding them in place as the clicking of the metal belt buckle blends in with the white noise of their ragged breaths._

_Mark couldn’t help it. He’d been pining after Jackson for who knows how long, and finally experiencing his touch, his kisses—everything, was nearly overwhelming. The words Mark had always wanted to say slips out semi-consciously._

_“I l-love you, Jackson,” he pants, eyes squeezed shut blissfully and fists clenching and unclenching in their restraints. Once he starts, he can’t stop. Mark repeats himself over and over, gasping out those three words like his life depended on it every time Jackson brushes that spot inside him that has him seeing stars, or when his tongue teases along his swollen bottom lip. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”_

_Jackson’s pace becomes stilted, temporarily losing it’s rough quality as he trembles slightly above him. Jackson leans in, buries his face into Mark’s neck so that Mark hears what he says next loud and clear. “You’re driving me crazy, hyung. I love you too, I always have,” he admits._

_Mark barely registers Jackson’s confession, not even expecting a reply at all. He feels a lot of things all at once; surprise, disbelief, and then elation. Mark is at a loss of what to do or say. So he keeps his eyes closed. He’s scared that if he opens them, he’ll wake up from whatever dream this is and find himself back in his room, despairingly alone._

Mark is brought out of his reverie when the door swings open, revealing Jackson proudly holding a tray in his hands. He’s still wearing Mark’s shirt, but his jeans have been replaced with casual sweats. “I made you breakfast,” he says cheerfully.

Despite himself, the older can’t help but chuckle a bit. The scene reminds him of a child wanting praise for a job well done. It’s also slightly cheesy. Breakfast in bed? Mark shakes his head. Only Jackson, he supposes.

All the same, Mark accepts the tray from the other boy, heart fluttering at Jackson’s kind gesture. He’s just now starting to realize how hungry he is, not having eaten a proper meal since they left the party the night before. After all, he was too busy doing something else. 

“What’s the occasion?” Mark teases, settling the platter on his lap. Mark takes in the sight of food on the tray, and he has to admit that Jackson really outdone himself this time. Bacon, scrambled eggs, and pancakes were piled neatly onto one plate, and a glass of milk was placed on the opposite side. In conclusion, the breakfast smelled and looked amazing, and Mark wouldn’t mind waking up everyday to this.

Unfortunately, his happy mood is interrupted a second later. “You don’t remember?” Jackson asks, face falling. 

Mark brings his attention back to Jackson, dumbfounded. “What?”

“You said you loved me.”

Oh. 

Mark gulps, nervousness returning to him. He could feel himself flushing red in embarrassment, and he shifts uncomfortably on the bed. What did he expect? Apparently, Jackson remembers last night like he does. Mark figures they should talk about it. However, it was one thing to thing to remember the ordeal, but actually voicing it out felt like an impossibly daunting task. 

“I-yes. I did say that,” Mark stutters. He mentally slaps himself for sounding so obvious. What a great start already.

Jackson doesn’t seem like he minds though. He moves closer to Mark on the bed, careful not to disturb the tray placed on his legs. “Do you regret it? It’s okay if you do. We can just forget about--”

“No!” Mark yells, surprising both of them with his suddenly loud volume. Jackson stares at him with his mouth agape, and Mark probably looks equally as bewildered. “No, I don’t,” Mark repeats more quietly.

He takes a deep breath and looks Jackson in the face. Mark knows last time he confessed, he may have not come off all that genuine since he was being fucked so hard into the sheets he could barely think. But now, his mind is clear. His answer is the same. Mark decides it’s now or never.

“I like you...a lot. I have for a long time. Last night didn’t happen because I was drunk. Well maybe that was part of it, but I don’t regret anything.” Mark’s face feels like it’s on fire, but he continues anyway, swallowing the anxiety that threatens to choke him bubbling up in his throat. 

“Will you go out with me?” Mark blurts out before he can have any second thoughts.

Jackson’s eyes widen, and Mark’s nervousness increases every second he doesn’t speak, but a bright smile soon lights up the younger’s face.

“I’d thought you’d never ask,” he laughs. “Of course I will.” He goes to pick up the tray and set it on the nightstand. Then, Mark is enveloped by one of the softest hugs he’s ever had. The embrace is warm and safe; it’s everything Mark could have wished for since his infatuation with the other boy in middle school. Mark instantly reciprocates the hug, wrapping his arms around Jackson’s neck as he breathes in his scent. Mark hasn’t felt this happy in a while.

“By the way,” Jackson mumbles, face buried in his shoulder. “You look great in my sweater.”

Mark blushes for what felt like the hundredth time that day, realizing that he hadn’t changed out of his attire from yesterday yet. He is indeed still wearing Jackson’s oversized black sweater. Regardless, Mark is too high on the feeling of finally having Jackson as his boyfriend, that he doesn’t really care. In fact, he’s feeling bolder than usual.

So he unravels himself from Jackson and looks at him with lidded eyes, coyly smirking up at the younger. He makes sure to slowly trail a hand up Jackson’s thigh, a bit too close to his crotch. Mark revels in the small intake of air that comes from the other boy. “Wouldn’t I look better with it off, though?” Mark whispers, biting teasingly at his bottom lip.

At that, Jackson’s eyes grow dark and the atmosphere transforms into something heavier than before. 

“Better hurry up with breakfast then, baby,” Jackson smirks, hand already reaching for the zipper of Mark’s pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter is finally done after weeks of procrastination (and schoolwork)..
> 
> comments/thoughts/opinions would be appreciated as always ^^


End file.
